girls are idiots, and other observations

When I was a freshman in high school, a friend and I snuck out during a sleepover and met up with some sophmore boys. We ended up sneaking into the basement of one of the boys, and as there were three boys and two girls, one of the boys got bullied into "having to go home." Since my friend liked one of the two that were left, I ended up with the other one. We made out and he palmed my butt through my jeans while the other two almost kissed on the other side of the room. Did I even like my guy? Not really. *addendum: I am not and was not a ho.*
At youth group the next week, I saw my boy talking to one of my more backstabbing-inclined girl friends, and wrote him off since he didn't talk to me at all that night. Why did it not occur to me that he was probably talking to her about me? Anyway, I liked the backstabber girl (Jamie)'s boyfriend, so I was otherwise distracted.
On Valentine's day a few weeks later, a bunch of us went out to dinner. The boy I had kissed brought chocolates, but was a little awkward about giving them to me, and I made it infinitely more awkward by not accepting them. After all, I wanted Jamie's boyfriend. So I spent the night flirting with the one who was taken, and the boy shared the chocolate with everyone. We want what we can't have. Period.

If I were to do something with Tom, the motives would be completely mutual. He probably wants to hook up with me to prove to himself that, at 36, he can still get a hot young girl. The thing is, I'm fine with that because I really just want to hook up with him to prove to myself that I can get a hot older guy. I went through enough years of eating disorder and weight gain and a debilitated self-esteem that I sort of feel like being with him would be the final confirmation that: I am okay. I can be myself again.

Unsure as to why I am so smooth in my interactions with Tom. My emotional maturity and level of experience with men dictates that I should blurt out "I HAVE A BLOG ABOUT YOU" when I see him, but somehow, I keep it cool and keep him interested. Instinct, maybe? The female knows how to attract the male so that he wants to bang her, aka procreate? Thoughts?

I think that I am obsessed with image. This occurred to me today when I was driving to work and it was overcast but not super dark or anything, and about half the cars on the road had their lights on. I don't have automatic lights, and deliberated over whether the nicer cars had them on because they had automatic lights or whether there was any correlation. I thought way too much about how having my lights on would make me look. Is this sad? Hint: the answer is YES. And since you're dying to know, yes, I did turn my lights on.